The Lady and the Sparrow
by Gravitea
Summary: This is an inbetween story about the gang going after Jack. Adventure! Drama! Romance! Suspence! hopefully! Pirate Speak! Join the gang plus Lady Kate and Seargant as they dodge the EIC and Davey Jones and search for Jack! Jack is Here!
1. Chapter 1 The Lady

Chapter 1- The Lady

"Ship to Starboard!", came the cry from the look out.

"That'll be them, Cap'n…"

Lady Kate sighed, pulled a small, tarnished silver mirror surreptitiously out from her waist-sash and tried to practice her smile again without anyone noticing.

"Now, now Cap'n. Yer face is on just fine." Kate looked up at her first mate with a look of contempt wrapped in distaste. Sergeant, whose real name was Jacob, but whom no one ever called that, replied to the look with one of mock penitence. "Ah…is now not a good time for jokes then?" She merely growled at him, slipping the mirror back to its place and looking out towards the on coming vessel. She hated it. The idea of 'playing nice' with these despicable dregs made her want to hit the rum and never resurface to a state of consciousness. But, as reflected by her sighing again, what choice did she have- did they all have now. In a few moments, the ship was in gang plank distance and the abomination she was dreading came aboard.

Taking a step forward and arranging her face into the best, practiced smile she had, she made a slight bow and welcomed her 'distinguished company'. Her façade faltered upon recognizing the main officer who stepped forward. Oh, of all the foul beasts in hell… she thought in her head, but outwardly her smile only faded for a fraction of an instant. "Well, well! _Admiral_ Norrington, is it?" She had said the title with a bit too much emphasis that sounded nothing if not like contempt. Quickly Kate forced her vocal cords to adopt a tone of silky delight. "To what do I owe this singular honor? Am I to understand that my little shipment of goods is so desired that the East India Company has sent their finest to collect it from me?"

Norrington smiled not unkindly at the pirate lass, but with something that closely resembled pity. It made Kate want to smack him. "Ah, Lady Kate. Your reputation for punctuality has not been disappointed."

"Well, though I thank you for those wonderfully kind words, Admiral", she flashed an even broader-and to Sergeant's eyes an even more fake- smile, "But you still haven't told me why you have come yourself."

"Yes, indeed." His smile faded and Kate narrowed her eyes ever so slightly in suspicion. "The reason is two fold. Firstly, your past two shipments have been a little light, especially where the spices and alcohol have been concerned…" Kate's lips turned up into an innocent smile, but the excuse she was going to make was made for her… "Now, I'm certain that this is an oversight by our suppliers, and a notice has been made to them to correct this error." Damn him and the whole lot of them! She cursed mentally. The next shipment she'd have to be more careful with what she allowed the crew to use.

"A wise and prudent measure, Admiral" she purred. "And what is this other fold of yours?"

"Only a warning. As I'm sure you have heard, Jack Sparrow is dead." Kate saw the crew immediately begin to squirm and whisper at these words. One side long glance from their captain silenced them, as she herself would not give this King's dog the satisfaction of seeing a response.

"We have heard such rumors, yes"

"These, I assure you are no rumors, dear Lady." Kate only nodded and cocked her head slightly indicating she was waiting for the rest of what he had to say. "And, there are some fugitives on the loose from the Black Pearl…"

Despite her best attempts at remaining nonchalant, these words drew the breath from her sharply. "The Pearl is gone too?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Norrington's expression seemed totally sincere. He was obviously a true man of the sea and not a total waste as most of his type. And what was that look in his eyes, Kate wondered. Remorse? Norrigton cleared his throat and continued, "Now, these fugitives have a girl with them, the governor of Port Royal's own daughter. She is being held by them for some unknown purpose. If you should come across them, it is your duty to King and Country to return her to Port Royal. Is that clear?"

Kate's eyes wanted to roll at his whole "king and Country", and she had been concentrating so hard on stopping them that she had almost missed this cue. "Aye, I get'cha. And what of the fugitives themselves? They're to dance the Hempen Jig, I suppose." She had said this more to herself than to Norrington, but still he replied, "Not all have the good fortune nor sage judgment of those who have turned from piracy to privateering, Lady Kate." Here she smiled a soulless smile and excused herself to the task of directing her crew in helping load their cargo onto the East India Company's vessel.

She and Sergeant watched them leave, and as he shook his head at the paltry sum obtained for their work, Lady Kate hung her head sadly. "_Good fortune…Sage judgement"_ she spat the words like venom at the wake of Norrigton's boat. She took a swig of rum and sighed through the rat-tails of spray soaked hair that clung to her face. "More like cowardice and hopelessness… and now, if Jack Sparrow is truly gone, what chance is left to us…" Kate pushed off the mast she was leaning on and began to walk away. Without lifting his head Sergeant called after her, "Where ya off to, Cap'n?"

"To take a caulk. Dealing with those imbeciles always gives me a headache…"

dance the Hempen Jig – Hang To take a caulk – Take a nap.


	2. Chapter 2 A Ship in the Night

Disclaimer- I own nothing, except maybe the Empress and her crew. Scallywags all of 'em!

Oh, and just to let you know, next chapter is the gang's appearance! Jack Sparrow will be around in flash backs, and in person later on (hopefully!)

Please read & review and be kind!!

A huge thanks to my first reviewer, Flute Damioh, who besides being super nice is just awesome!

Chapter 2- A Ship in the Night

A little over a week had past since Admiral Norrington had shown up on her deck. She still fancied that the stench of the King's dogs lingered. Lady Kate sat at her desk staring out the window. She preferred having her chair face the window because that way her shadow wouldn't fall over what ever she was looking at. She also never tired of the view. She had blown out her candles hours ago, and the lattice work of shadows falling from the full moon's light had come and gone across her face…

And still, the little ship she saw had not moved. More accurately it had moved, of course, but it only seemed to move in order to keep sight of _The Empress_. If she moved too far ahead, than the little ship would move just quickly enough to maintain a seemingly set distance. If, on the other hand, the little ship gained on _Empress_, then it would actively paddle backwards a bit. From her spyglass, Kate could see a group of people in the boat, how many she couldn't be certain but she guessed about five or six. A single mast rose from the middle of the ship, her sail furled tightly. Kate had no clue what they were trying to accomplish. When she had first spotted them, their oars shooting sparks of water and light into the dark air, she had assumed they were attempting some kind of ambush. However, as they came nearer, she saw that the ship was really nothing more than a long boat, perhaps even smaller; and besides a five or six man crew was hardly a threat. That was when she had extinguished her lights; in the hopes that it would provoke further action. None came.

Kate brought her finger tips together and leaned her head forward into them, so that they tapped her bottom lip in time with her thoughts. _They could be spies…_ she tried to reason, _but if that's so then they're really bad at it. They could be survivors, but of what catastrophe? There are no real pirates in these waters any more, and there haven't been any serious storms in the area that I know of…so then, what options are left to me?... _Lost in her thoughts as she was, she didn't jump when three small, sharp taps came from her door. Nor did she wonder who the intruder was. "Sergeant, what to you make of that?"

He saw her hand silhouetted by the moonlight, a dark red glimmer came from the ring on her pointer finger, as if emphasizing where he was to look. He didn't need to, as he had been watching the ship himself for hours up on deck. "Well, if they're East India spies, then they're not terribly good at it, are they?" Kate smiled and looked up at Jacob, whom she would never dream of calling by his name out loud. He ran a hand through his sandy colored hair, which although he normally wore it in a tied back fashion was currently hanging down on his shoulders. Kate approved; she thought it made him look more dangerous.

"Okay, so we know what they aren't, but what are they?" She had turned her gray eyes from him out to the sea and their mysterious companions. Sergeant sighed softly, he was glad she had stopped looking at him because he found it difficult to think cleverly when she did. He observed her in the dim light; toying with the ruby ring as she considered possibilities. The ring, he knew, was all she had left of her father, _well, besides the Empress of course_, he corrected himself. Her habit of twisting it whenever she was thinking had given rise to a whole host of stories among the crew; they said that it gave her the ability to speak with him, even though he was dead. They should know better. Once you were lost to Davy Jones' Locker that was all. Dead men tell no tales and speak through no bobbles.

He cleared his throat and returned his thoughts to the ship. "Maybe devil dodgers have taken to going ship to ship now as well as door to door." He had meant it to make her laugh and it did. "Seriously though, cap'n, I don't think we have much to fear from them. It's obvious enough that they don't want to sneak up on us, and so I think they plan on comin' about when the sun returns." He scratched his chin for a moment, and then added thoughtfully, "I don't know, maybe they just want to chat."

At this, Kate felt something click. The corner of her mouth twitched up into a smirk. "Well then, why don't we have ourselves a little wager?"

Sergeant smiled broadly at Kate, and said with a wink "I don't know Captain, you already own me two bottle of rum from our last one."

"Well then," she replied, not to be out done, "Double or nothin'!" She looked up at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and he found all he could do was smile back and nod his assent. "Excellent! Let's have your daddle on it! Now, what do you say they are?"

"I'm going to bet that they're Rum Runners who had to make a quick get away from our "friends" and are now looking to barter safe passage. And you?"

Kate returned her glance to the sea, and the small vessel bobbing therein. Her smirk widened as she replied a single word:

"Fugitives."

Devil dodgers – preachers

Daddle – hand


	3. Chapter 3 The Fugitives

Ahoy all

Okay, so the fugitives are finally here! Please leave a little note (reviews, encouragement, etc)!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone from POTC...just don't look in my basement and ignore the voice that sounds like Captain Jack Sparrow coming from there!

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Chapter 3 The Fugitives 

In the light of the still rising sun, Lady Kate and Sergeant stood silently watching the small boat heading towards them. Sparks of water, lit on fire by the red and gold rays of the new sun shot up from the oars with every stroke, and with each forward lurch Kate could feel something stirring in the pit of her stomach. Something was about to happen. Something important. She played absently with her ruby ring, twisting it around her finger as she thought about nothing in particular.

"They'll be here soon, we should head up."

Sergeant's voice jolted her from her reverie. She nodded a quick assent as she turned from the window and headed out of her cabin. Before she reached the door, he caught her arm lightly. "Just incase they intend some mischief, I suggest we act with caution. Observe, but stay back. Wait for the right moment."

"Aye," Kate glanced back over her shoulder at him, "the opportune moment."

Sergeant didn't quite know why, but her smile made him nervous...

The sun was a thumb print over the horizon by the time the Jacob's Ladder was lowered to allow the strangers aboard. Sergeant stood among the men, issuing orders and serving as the official greeting committee. Kate hung back with the on looking crew, safely lost among them. From this position she awaited the first arrival. A handful of men crowded around the ladder, helping and holding and, to Kate's annoyance, blocking the new comer from view. When they finally parted, a mummer of excitement went up among the men. Standing on the deck was now a beautiful young woman. She was tall and even standing still she processed a lithe quality. She reminded Kate of a great cat who was caged, proud in baring but restless looking. The girl's brown eyes glared around her in an almost challenging manner, and it took Kate some time to notice that she was dressed as a boy, in ill fitting clothes and a cap that caught up most of her hair. The few golden brown strands that resisted containment whipped about her face in the strong breeze. The next onboard was also a woman, but this one so different from the first that it almost caused Kate to doubt whether she truly knew what a woman aught to be at all. From the moment this one stepped on deck, the mummers of the crew became entirely different. They became guarded somehow, and like the whispers of children in her ears. If the other woman was a captive beast, this one was a predator; free and dangerous as a falcon. Yet, she did and said nothing. She gazed almost quizzically at the crew around her, with no malice or warning at all. She seemed to float as she moved dreamily away from the ladder to make room for the others. Her caramel colored skin seemed not so much a part of her as a part of the sun, and its light seemed not so much a reflection of the sun as an extension of it. She smiled with darkened lips, her black hair a mass of tangled shadows and raven feathers. Then, her black eyes caught Kate's own. A shock like a lightening strike struck the captain's chest squarely, and she would not have been surprised if she had physically tumbled backwards. She did not, however, but she could feel the curtain of anonymity she had been hidden by fall away from her. No words were said, and yet the dark woman's smile widened and with a nod of her head she told Kate as clearly as if she had spoken, "Yes, I know who you are. And I know you suspect why we are here. Now, what will you do?"

Kate was relieved to have an excuse to turn her gaze from this nomad to the next to come on board. This one was an older gentleman, by whose tattered and worn expression she could tell that he had been through more than perhaps even his share of years could rightfully entitle one to. His clothes were tattered and worn through in places, but what really interested her about him was the parrot that flapped noisily on his shoulder. Right now he was incessantly squawking "Permission to come aboard!" The next figure to come aboard was also a man, this one a little on the portly side, but with an easy smile. Kate also noticed that he had one of the most impressive sets of mutton chop sideburns that she had ever seen, even if they were gray. He immediately went up to Sergeant and shook his hand, thanking him for 'graciously allowing them on deck'. He said his name was Gibbs, but diverted further questions until the last of the small boat's number came up the ladder. This was a young and rather handsome man. His dark hair was tied back, and his strong jaw was set in an expression of determination and perhaps a little sadness. In fact, it struck Lady Kate that all of the 5 members, save perhaps the dark one (from whose outward appearance she had gleaned next to nothing), seemed troubled.

Again, Sergeant put the question to the group: "It is not that we are displeased with the sudden manifestation of company on these lonely seas," he smiled, "but what exactly is it that brings you and your company out on the waters in such an ill equipped fashion. If you're selling anything I should warn you we're not buying. This includes philosophies and redemption. I'm afraid we've all quite sold our souls already". This last line brought chuckles from my lads, but strangely caused our guests to grow paler. The tall, beautiful young lady seemed to be struggling not to break down into a fit of sobs. Definitely not traveling ministers then.

With a faltering smile, the man named Gibbs stepped a bit further forwards. "Aye now. We have arrived in a fashion none to safe nor smart. But crazy things we've needed to do, and crazier things still need be done. Which is why we've come. We need the help of _the Empress_, who is, as I'm sure you've heard now the fastest _fair_ running ship in the ocean, Captain…?" With the word "captain", the dark woman's eyes again met mine. Sergeant glanced at me sidelong and I gave him a slight nod as a signal; which although I'm certain the dark one noticed, she seemed neither surprised nor to care.

Sergeant grinned the grin of a man who knew he owed his captain a bottle of rum. "Ah, Mr. Gibbs, I must sadly inform you that you have mistaken me for something I am not. However, I will take you to the _Empress's _true captain forthwith. You and the rest of your company, including the lovely Miss Swan, of course." I had already turned to sneak away to my cabin, but the woman's small squeak of surprise didn't escape my notice. Nor did Sergeant's teasing reply: "Terribly sorry, Miss. Swann, but Admiral Norrington sends his regards…. rotten buggah that he is."


	4. Chapter 4 The Meeting

This one turned out to be longer than intended, so the long story will be next time. Some serious moments, but some funny too. Hopefully the whole story will be like that

A HUGE thank you to xRubyDustx, she is just awsome!

If you like it, let me know! Anything you want to see happen, let me know! R&R!!

Disclaimer: I wish they were all mine!!

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Chapter 4- The Meeting

"After you please ma lassies"

Kate heard the trumping of heavy boots stop outside the door to her cabin as the door opened and Sergeant's invitation was extended to the group. One by one they filed through, looking rather solemn she thought. Six chairs had already been arranged for and placed in the room. Now that only five of them were needed, Sergeant easily lifted the sixth and placed it by the door for himself. It was a good place, he reasoned, incase he needed to stop anyone from entering or leaving.

Kate rose gracefully from behind her desk. To Will Turner, she looked rough but lovely, like a garden that had weathered a hurricane. To Gibbs she looked like strong woman, and strong women made him nervous. _Especially aboard a ship_, he thought to himself as he fingered a lucky coin hidden under his shirt at his heart. If Cotton could have spoken, he probably would have mentioned that she looked like his long lost sweetheart, and though this would be entirely inaccurate, it would also none the less be an amazing compliment coming from him. To Elizabeth, she looked like the specter of her childhood dreams come to life. Kate's keen gray eyes seemed to tell so many stories in their depths that for a moment Elizabeth thought she might be back in her nursery room, hidden under blankets reading from a book that she knew for a fact her father did not want her to be looking at, let along studying every plate therein.

Strangely, Tia thought nothing. She only stood by the back, looking out the window.

"Welcome to the _Empress_. We are pleased to have you. I am her Captain, the Lady Kate." Here she turned her gaze to Mr. Gibbs and continued, "I see you are upset at the thought of sailing on a ship under a woman's command. You probably hold to the old superstitions about ladies and boats, eh?" Mr. Gibbs smiled sheepishly, murmured something apologetic, and tried his best to stop pawing at his coin. Kate smiled not unkindly at him, "Allow me to put your fears at rest. I am a woman who was raised a pirate. I was raised with no regard for femininity nor any possible love for any but the sea." Here Tia listened intently and noted as Kate's voice fell a little and Sergeant looked away from her for the first time. "I am thus a woman with no future and no heart, and that is no one at all. So you see, you sail not under a woman, but under a wraith". She had not meant the words to be so dampening, so cold sounding. And yet they were, and she could do nothing to take them back. It was Will that returned them to the course.

"Lady Kate, we beg your pardon for intruding like this and then having the audacity to ask a further favor than your hospitality, but we must."

"Kate is just fine, young man." Her genuine smile had returned while he had spoken. His manner was nervous, and yet every bit the gentleman. She couldn't help but be charmed by his boyish awkwardness. "But one thing first; who is asking this favor?"

Will blushed a bit. "Ah! Of course! Please, your pardon again. My name is William Turner" Here he bowed deeply, and even Sergeant had to smile into his hand to hide it. "This is Mr. Gibbs; this is Mr. Cotton and his parrot. This is Tia, she is…"

"A priestess" Tia finished for him, purring the word. She looked into Kate's eyes for a response, but Kate new better than to show one so obviously. Never give anyone more ammunition than you've got yourself. Instead, she only nodded to Tia, and then looked back to Will.

"This leaves Miss. Elizabeth Swann, I presume." There was no question in Kate's voice, and Elizabeth's cheeks felt hot again. "An Admiral Norrington was 'warning' us about you all. Said you," here she indicated Elizabeth with her ruby ringed hand, "were being held by them against your will" here she waved the other hand broadly at the group. She winked at them all, "This does not seem to be the case. And, I am so distressed by the lack of honesty in one of the King's own that I intend to write his royal majesty immediately and demand he redress his people to protect the moral fiber of the rest of we good, god-fearing people!" This mock tirade ended with a finger extended skyward, and though Sergeant was trying his hardest not to fall back laughing, her audience seemed to either not get it or to think her mad. She cleared her throat. "Yes, well::ahem::, now what be this favor?"

Will seemed not to know how to say it. He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came of it. So, it was Gibbs who finally restated what she had already heard above deck. "So, you want to borrow _the Empress_?"

"Not without her captain, of course." Gibbs felt bad for his first impression and was trying to make up for it.

"Why?"

"It's kind of a long story…" Will said while running a hand over his hair.

"I like long stories. And besides, it would seem we have the time. 'Tis three days before we reach port, and this day is still young yet." Kate sat down indicating that they should all follow suit.

Elizabeth, who had been quiet all this time, could no longer bare it. There had been a noose tightening around her heart since the day, no, since the second Jack died. _Since I condemned him to death_ she thought through the convulsions in her chest that she hoped nobody else saw. She had to say it, if for no other reason than to hear the words herself. "Jack Sparrow is not dead!"

"Captain Jack Sparrow," Kate corrected, she knew captains were particular about that. "And, how would you know that?"

"Because," she gulped, "we were there, and we looked. We couldn't find it…we couldn't find…" Her voice seemed to fail her. The color drained from her face and her body began to shake with a threatening storm of tears. Will went over and put a hand protectively on her shoulder.

"The body." He said simply.

Tia seemed to momentarily resurface from wherever it was that she had gone in her mind. "'Dere is more to life den bodies and death. Dere is more to death den life and bodies."

Kate couldn't say whether the comment was meant as a contribution to the conversation, or whether Tia was finishing a thought of her own. All she knew was that if there was a chance he was alive, if Captain Jack Sparrow could possibly be in this world yet…

"I think it's time for that long story, Mr. Turner."


	5. Chapter 5 The Long Story

Chapter 5 – The Long Story

Will sighed, knowing that there would be no other way to gain Lady Kate's assistance. They needed _the Empress_. If Barbossa was right, and assuming he could be trusted (which, who knows if that was ever a safe assumption), Davy Jones knew he was back and knew enough to watch his old ship. _The Empress_ would be safer. Working for the India Trading company, it might even be beyond suspicion. At least for a little while, and that might just buy them enough time. Plus, with the Pearl gone, she was the fasted ship in the waters now, again assuming nothing hinders her. _But I wonder_, Will thought, _how safe is that, or any other assumption to make anymore?_

"It all began when I was about 8 years old…"

Kate blinked a few times. "Now, I don't think you'll be needing to go quite that far back!"

Will started and blushed a bit. "Oh, yes of course, your right." He took a deep breath and started again. He was really beginning to wish someone else would explain this. "I suppose you could say that it really started a couple of year ago. Jack showed up in Port Royal, saved Elizabeth and was going to be hanged for it. But then, some other pirates kidnapped her…" He did not feel the need at this time to try and explain about the cursed Aztec gold. He was going to try to keep it as simple as he could, so that when he really needed her to believe the impossible she wouldn't already be worn out of faith. However, he should have known better then to expect Gibbs to keep silent. Gibbs liked a good story too much, and if it happened to be true, well then…

"AYE!" he cried out with much passion, "Twas the curse of the old Aztec gods it were!" Lady Kate and Sergeant exchanged glances and then both looked back at the older man as he became more and more animated, gesturing enthusiastically. "You see, Lady Kate, our good Captain Sparrow, he was mutinied by his greedy grew. But they all got theirs in the end, you see, because the gold they sold him for sold their very souls to the devil himself! Cursed they were! They became neither dead nor livin'!"

Will could see where this was going. If he was any judge of Gibbs moods, then by the wild hand movements he was making he was full speed ahead towards talking off Lady Kate's ear all day; and they'd be no closer to the resolution of their purpose for being there in the first place. He cut Gibbs off as he took a breath, "And Elizabeth had one of the coins." Gibbs looked a little disappointed at the curtailing of his own story telling, but was mollified somewhat by Sergeants offer of rum. "It was Jack who helped me rescue her. After we had returned to Port Royal, he sailed off on the Black Pearl and we thought that was that. But then, Elizabeth and I were arrested for helping Jack. A deal was struck, and I went off in search of him, but Jack was looking for a key." Here he paused, wondering slightly how much he should elaborate on. He quickly decided though that if he didn't go all the way, Kate may not trust him. Besides, what he didn't say he felt certain Gibbs would. "Jack needed to find Davey Jones' heart." Kate leaned forward at this, her eyes widening and her fingers pressed to her lips in thought.

"AYE! Jack had made a deal with Jones ya see!" Will tried not to roll his eyes at Gibbs outburst. "The Pearl raised from the depths for his soul! At first he tried to bargain some odd else for his debt, and the devil almost went for it! 100 souls is what he said he'd take for our Jack!" here Gibbs raised his mug, and he was joined by Sergeant, Cotton, and even Miss. Swann, although she hadn't done it to be noticed.

"Well, he ended up finding the heart," Will continued, "at least I think he did. He certainly seemed to think he did." In his head, he could still see Jack, bravely and absurdly facing the terrible Davey Jones, head and jar of dirt held high chanting 'I've got a jar or di-irt!!' He shook his head to clear it so that he could finish his story. "But it must not have been what he thought. He didn't have it, and the Kraken got him and the Pearl."

Kate nodded and then asked, "But why was he so sure that he had it?"

It was Elizabeth who answered this time, "Because he did." Her voice was little more that a shaky whisper, but they all heard her. "I think Norrington must have taken it when Jack wasn't looking…"

Kate sighed and sat back in her chair. "Well, that explains a lot." The group looked at her quizzically. "Well, it does, doesn't it? You can't think that I haven't noticed how the sea has been lately? Oh, she's never quite a friend to us, but lately she's been downright catty. It's like the waves of the ocean that drive the Empress and all other ships on her are no longer indiscriminate about who they help or who they hurt. The waters have been too selective lately. Too convenient and helpful to, say the ships of His Royal Highness", her voice dripped with venom, "and all but stopping us if one of the Trading company's ships wants to so much as borrow sugar!" _But, how do you go against the ocean, _she wondered desperately. "Poor Captain Sparrow. He should have known that Davey Jones is no one to make a bargain with. Even if he was just trying to right a wrong… he always was too good of a man and it never gave him anything more than trouble."

Elizabeth failed to note the regret in Lady Kate's voice. Instead, she only sensed her own feeling of guilt and loss. In an attempt to drown the voices of her conscience, she cursed Jack. "Stupid Pirate! He probably just did something irresponsible and reckless and lost the Pearl as a result. He should have just accepted it and moved on, like an adult!" She realized as she pouted on the last word that she was acting anything but like an adult, but let anyone else try to tell her that now.

Kate looked at Elizabeth with a look of open astonishment. In a tone that was genuinely pitying, she said "You really don't know anything about Jack Sparrow, do you?"

Her face scarlet with abashment, Elizabeth indignantly replied "I know as much as anyone, I've read all the stories… not that any of them are true." She added the last part defiantly, but instantly felt a stab of pain at her words. In her mind's eye, Jack stood before her, his dark, kohl lined eyes flashing with hurt and a defiance of their own. His hands exposed his arms and then his chest, each marked with "truth". _No truth at all._ Her face fell.

"Let me ask you this, luvie," Kate questioned her, "why do you think Davey Jones was willing to trade 100 lives for just Jack's one? Do you think he would do that for an extremely bad man?"

Elizabeth stared at the pirate captain open mouthed. In fact, all eyes were now on the Lady Kate, even Tia's. The intimation was obvious to all. Jack was not only a very good pirate, but a very good man. A very, very good man.

Kate smiled and leaned back in her chair. The sun, almost at its highest point in its daily journey shined behind her, haloing her hair in a golden red glow. She took a minute to appreciate the ambiance of the moment. Just the right amount of dramatic lighting and a captive audience. She couldn't have chosen a better moment for the story. "Okay then," she announced, her smile spreading even more widely, "one good story deserves another."


	6. Chapter 6 The Story of a Sparrow, Prt 1

Hello All! Part one of Jack's Story!

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC, and may curse that I don't

Also, the basic idea for this was inspired by my brother's playing of the game "The Legend of Jack Sparrow", where they mention he was raised in Colonial India and some other bits I haven't gotten to yet…. I just ran with it!

I hope you enjoy Part One! Let me know: rnr or kind words of encouragement welcome!

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Chapter 6- The Story of a Sparrow, Part 1

The room fell silent at the promise of Lady Kate's story. Gibbs had long known Jack Sparrow, the man he felt fortunate to call a friend, and yet even he had never heard much about his life before he showed up in Tortuga. If Mr. Cotton could speak, than he would have said how interested he was in finding out a little more about what made Jack tick, or perhaps merely what gave him the ticks characteristic to his movements. Even Will, who was feeling a little dejected and hurt by recent actions both performed by and on the evasive pirate, was hoping to glean some insight. Tia knew a great deal about Jack, not that he had ever told her himself, but some how she always just _knew_ things. It was both a blessing and a curse. Still, even she had to admit that this was one tale she was not certain she knew. She had general impressions about Jack's beginnings, but he guarded that part of his heart so closely, it was difficult to see.

In fact, the only one who was not looking at Kate expectantly was Elizabeth. She didn't know what she wanted to hear. If Kate's tale made him out to be an adventurous young rogue, hell bent and daring, then she would feel somewhat at ease for giving him a send off she could imagine that he had always wanted: death by a beautiful temptress, a siren of the sea. However, the preamble that brought her to tell them this story made it seem unlikely that Jack was any sort of villain at all. Elizabeth knitted her brows together and twisted the fabric at the hem of her shirt. She had killed him. This fact was hard enough even knowing the little about Jack that she did. What would knowing the truth do to her? In her mind, the dark accusing eyes flashed at her again.

Kate finished her moment relishing the atmosphere of perfect setting and suspense and began her story… Jack Sparrow's story.

"My father knew Jack Sparrow before he was a captain. He knew him through his father, Captain Grant Sparrow and his mother Mae. Grant, as my father always told it, was a little odd. A good man, but a little off. He loved his wife, and wanted to provide a good life for her and whatever family they might have. So, when an offer came to settle and work in the English colonies of India, he took it without a thought. It was a pleasant enough job, he got to sail and be home surprisingly often. He and Mae eventually had a son, whom they named Jonathan. But one day, while Jonathan was still fairly young, Grant disappeared. Some say that it was pirates; some say it was just the sea, and others said it was a woman or the rum that got him. Whatever it was, it made little difference to the only fact that remained. Mae was alone with her son. Now mind ye, I was not born or too young through most of this, so I canna tell ye what I do not myself know. And, for years my father lost sight of the little family because of concerns for his own. So, we must leave the fledgling Sparrow until his 14th birthday…

**_Colonial India, Bombay_**

A woman stands over a steaming barrel of wash, swishing it back and forth with a wooden paddle in the sudsy, murky water. Her long black hair hangs down her back in a thick braid; strands of it cling to her wet face. How much of it is sweat and how much of it is from the steam of her work, she had long since stopped guessing. This is just what she does; it is how she feeds both herself and her boy, Jonathan. She smiles to herself just thinking about him, and begins to sing a little song, swaying back and forth on her feet. Suddenly she is caught up about the waist by strong arms that swing her around and begin to waltz with her around the room. His voice joins her in the song, and she realizes for the first time how much his voice is changing. When he twirls her out of his grasp, he stops only for a minute, just long enough to flash her a grin and a wink, before singing more loudly and dancing madly about the room. Mae claps her hands in time to the song and laughingly watches her boy. _Its funny how much he looks like Grant_, she thought to herself, and yet she also could see how much he resembled her own reflection. He had her dark hair, wild and difficult to tame though he tried to wear it in a respectable, tied back British fashion. He was already as tall as she was, and possessed her long limbs and graceful, nimble fingers. However, his dark eyes owed their being to his father, as did his sometimes less than graceful movements. As though to prove her thoughts correct, the boy tripped on his own two feet and fell in a tumbled heap onto some clothes yet to be washed.

Mae walked over to him, still laughing and helped him to his feet. "Oh, my wonderfully daft Jonathan! What on earth has gotten into you?!" He smelled of cedar and the sea, as he often did when returning home from his day of work on the docks. But, the sky through the window was yet a soft blue. "And why are you home so early?" She looked at her son with a perplexed expression, her blue eyes searching his for a hint of explanation.

Suddenly, Jonathan pulled himself up to his full height and grew serious. This look always reminded his mother of when he was a tiny child trying to figure something out. She smiled gently but tried not to chuckle. She could tell he meant to be "grownup". "Momma, you don't have to do this anymore" he said gesturing to the piles of washed and unwashed laundry. "I have been offered a job aboard one of the trade ships!" She raised her eyebrow, and knowing what she was going to ask, he responded, "It's alright Momma. It's somebody who knew father. He says that he sees how hard I work everyday, and says that there is a future for me on the sea, just like Dad." Her eyebrows knitted together, and he again countered "Yes, Momma, I know it will be hard work. But, it can't be so much more difficult than moving those crates all day. And the pay is much better. And, I'd be out on the sea, going places and seeing everything!" Here he looked out the window with such a look of longing and love on his face that she could hardly have forbade him, no matter how much she wanted to. _This too, he gets from his father, M_ae thought. _Daft like Grant_. Jonathan could tell by the look on her face that she was softening. "In fact, the hardest thing will be just being away from you." He had meant this last part in perfect honesty, but he had also seen the benefit in flattery too many times to be ignorant of its usefulness now.

Mae laughed again, and hugged her son, "One of these days, my boy, that silver tongue of yours is going to get you into trouble it _won't_ be able to get you out of!" She removed herself from him to leave the room for a moment. The minutes seemed too long for Jonathan, now that he knew he would be leaving. The warm smell of spices from dinner mixed with the clean smell of soap and above all the sweet violet smell of his mother. He really had meant that leaving her would be the hardest part. _But, _he steadied himself on the determination of his words; _I will be back soon and often._ When his mother returned, she was carrying a small wooden box with an engraved bird on the top. "Look up." Mae instructed her son as she took something out that he could not properly see from the angle his eyes were currently at. He felt her rub something against his lower eye lid and he flinched. "Hold still," she commanded. After she had smudged the stick under both eyes she bade him look down. She was holding the box open so that he could see his refection on the mirror of the inside lid. "Your father used to wear kohl under his eyed when he went out on his ship. He said that it helped with the glare off the water so that he could see where he was steering. May you always see where you are heading, my son."

Jonathan looked at himself, staring back into his own eyes now rimmed in black. He looked different; somehow more mysterious or even dangerous. He liked it. He smiled at his mother. "Thank you, Momma"


	7. Chapter 7 The Story of a Sparrow, Prt 2

Hello again all:)

Here is Part 2, Part 3 will follow and then we're back to Kate's telling of the story. Her version to the crew would of course be much less detailed, but I suppose that goes without saying.

Anyway, I'm very nervous about this chapter. I know Jack might seem a little dumb for a little bit, but it is explained and I think it helps explain some of is character. He is quickly redeemed, so worry not. If it seems too unbelievable, let me tell you part of my inspiration. Jack is a very young man, (late teen abouts), and his personality is still changing. I just recently realized I was being a prat myself. It happens to us all. If we're lucky we get out of it quick like Jack. If not, well…

Enough of that! I hope you enjoy, R&R/ feedback would be great

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Chapter 7 – The Story of a Sparrow, Part 2

Mae sat in her room by a large window overlooking the sea, yet she did not look out at upon it. It had been quite a few years since her boy, Jonathan, had gone out on the sea's ever changing face to seek his destiny, and each time he came home to her she found his own face was changing as well. No, not just his face, but his heart. Lately, each time he had come home to see her, it was more about showing off his fancy hats and showing her the amount of coins he was giving her than about telling her all of his new adventures or asking how she had been. Not that he had been home again all that recently. In fact, the last time she had seen him must have been almost (if not) two years ago, and that had mostly been for him to drop off money and tell her that he had been made first mate on a vessel captained by some man named Beckett. He had been very proud of it, but it had seemed to her that this man was a very poor role model for her son. She had heard that he would transport anything for the East India Trading Company, as long as it would turn him a profit. People in Bombay spoke often about him the way one might speak of a devil. One popular story told by mothers to get mischievous children to behave was that they would otherwise be sent to Beckett, who would turn them into spices to be carried away on his ships and sold.

But when she told her son these misgivings, all he did was pat her fondly on the arm, kiss her cheek and tell her not to worry so much. Then he left, and he hadn't been back for some time. He still sent her letters, but the last handful had amounted to little more than: _Hello Mother. Here is money. Very Busy. In Haste, Jack. _That had been the newest change in him; his desire to be known as Jack, not Jonathan. Mae had been hoping it was a phase. She had been hoping that he would be back to himself the next time he stepped through her door. She kept hoping this until the next time he stood before her. Then she knew that she had hoped in vain.

"Hello, Mother." His voice was deep and rich, but hollow at the same time. His eyes didn't have the same dreamy quality that they once had, and even when he turned them to the sea, the look of longing found there seemed more superficial somehow. She knew why; he was looking at the ocean, but seeing only the means to an end now. Money had become his freedom, rank and possession his ambitions. It felt so wrong to her that she could not even look at him. Instead, she continued mending the cloth on her lap.

"Mother, why are you still doing that? Didn't I tell you not to take such work anymore? Do I not send enough money?"

Mae answered without looking at him. "I like doing it. It takes my mind of off things I'm not supposed to be 'worrying about'…" She had meant those words as a barb but looking at her son through her eyelashes she could tell that he hadn't gotten it. She was in a mood for a fight, so she continued, "There is nothing wrong with making an honest living, Jonathan…"

"And what I do is not honest?!" Her son's voice rose slightly, but he added in a more tempered tone, "And I told you mother, all of my men call me Jack now, and I prefer it."

Here she openly snickered at the man she felt she no longer new. She looked up and saw him, in yet another outrageous hat and wearing no kohl at all this time, with a look of abashment upon his brow. She rather enjoyed it. "Then let 'your men' call you by that name. I am your 'mother', as you have taken to calling me so very properly, and as I gave birth to and named you, I shall call you by the name which I gave!" The look of amazement hadn't left him yet, and as she felt a fire burning inside her that she could no longer contain, she continued, "And since you ask, no. I don't see how one can work for the likes of Beckett and call it honest. He is a cheat and a terror by every account I hear, and before you even think it, Jonathan Sparrow, no I may not know him, but neither do you, and some day truth will bare my point."

Jack had regained himself enough by this point to ask his mother "Is that why you haven't opened any of the money envelopes I have sent you? Michael told me. There is nothing wrong with having a job that allows you to keep food in both yours and your family's bellies."

Mae smashed the fabric she held into her fist. "Are all of those hats for your belly? What about the coat, Jonathan? Are all those shiny brass buttons keeping you well fed, hmmm?" It was his turn to look away now. "There is more to this world than just baubles and fashion. The real treasures in life aren't in gems and coinage. True freedom is found here," she gestured to her heart. She swung her arms out at the sea, "That world and that ocean is worth more gold and spices than you or your _friend_ Beckett could ever hope to amass. The real beauty of life is not found by seeking to own it, but by being content to share in it. And, until you re-learn that, the sea and all of its freedoms will belong more to the boys that work the docks than it ever will to the likes of you and Beckett!" Her anger spent, she looked away, wondering what exactly she had said in her explosion.

Jack just stood before her, wondering if he had deserved that. Finally, all he said was, "I have my own ship now. She is a beauty. _The Wicked Wench_: fastest ship in the whole Company." He had been so proud of the fact before, but saying it now seemed to stick in his throat as though he had swallowed a particularly large and pointy rock. He decided it was best to go. He forced a smile and said he would see her again soon, then turned and left.

He didn't hear her say it, but as he shut the door Mae whispered, "God's speed and fair waters, Captain Jack Sparrow. She (the sea) will never give up on ye, and neither will I".

More years past, and Jack made quite a reputation for himself on the ocean. The words his mother spoke had weighed heavily on his heart, and he stayed up many nights thinking about them, just him and _the Wench_. Finally he came to some determinations. The first was that, yes, he had become a bit of a prat. He blamed it on his need to be the best. But, he reflected, it hadn't been such a bad thing because after all he had gotten his command out of the bargain. He also realized that, although he loved hats in general, his mother had been right and the more ridiculous ones had made him look, well ridiculous. Most importantly, after remembering what he had felt the first time he saw his kohl eyed reflection and knew that his life lay out on the sea, he realized why he had wanted this life in the first place. It wasn't the coat, or the money, or even the hat (although the hat was certainly a very important perk). It was the sea itself. The open waters, whose crashing waves sounded to him like the whispering promise of far away adventures. The final thing he realized, which was what ultimately had made his name, was that he could charm his way out of anything.

The number of pirates at and around trade roots had become so great that the East India Trading Company and its backers where becoming very antsy. Every other day it seemed that they lost a shipment, or worse an entire ship to them. But Jack was far too clever to lose his cargo to anyone less intelligent than he was, which as far as he was concerned was everybody. Getting away from the especially dumb pirates was easy; all he had to do was run a yellow flag up _the Wicked Wench's _mast. If this failed to work, than all he had to do was convince them that, in fact, it would cost the pirate captain far more than the cargo was worth to expend the men and powder to collect it by force. Furthermore, he would tell them that he respected their position so much, that he would just give them some "choice" crates of whatever cargo he was hauling at the moment. The arrangement was never turned down, and as Jack never actually gave away the best crates, the backers never complained. Thus, since the cargo always (more or less) made it to its destination, Captain Sparrow became very in demand to transport goods for the East India Co. And, since he always seemed to give pirates a good shake with no fuss, he became well respected by them as well.

And so it happened one day that Cutler Beckett approached Jack with the one mission that was going to change his life forever…

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Note: A yellow flag on a ship sent a warning that the crew was suffering from dangerous and contagious fevers or sickness. 


	8. Chapter 8 The Story of a Sparrow, Prt 3

Chapter 8- A Sparrows Story Concluded

Cutler Beckett had heard about Jack's ability to get cargo to it's destination without a hitch. Further more he knew how efficient and capable he was from when the two worked together. So, naturally when he had just made a deal with a certain client that would make him substantially wealthier, he wanted the one man that he knew could be trusted to make it happen. He called Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Ah, Jack!" Beckett exclaimed, red faced and perspiring in his heavily embroidered regalia. "Just the man I wanted to see!"

Jack smiled back and shook the man's hand. "Good to see you, Sir…"

"Please, call me Cutler!"

"Alright then, Cutler," he grinned all the more, "what can I do to help?"

Beckett's face went all business as he motioned Jack to sit down. "The truth Jack is that I have a very special shipment that needs to be picked up and delivered in absolute secrecy and absolutely on time and intact. You are the only one I trust to do it. Finish this task my boy, and you're legend will be set in stone as the most successful Captain in the whole of the Company!"

Jack had to admit, the idea of being legendary absolutely appealed to him. He agreed, received the coordinates of the pick up and drop off points and proceeded to make arrangements.

When Jack was at his map, he found that he was going all the way to Africa, and from there back to the West Indies. It would be a long trip. He was just thinking of ways to make it shorter, or at least more pleasant (in other words, how much Rum they going to need), when all of the sudden there was an urgent sounding rap on the door of his cabin. "Yes?" he asked, surprised and curious to the intrusion.

"Beggin' yer parden, Cap'n Sparra, but there's a man here ta see you. Says it's most frightful urgent." The mousy young man wrung his hands, as though he were nervous about what the news might mean.

"First of all, stop worrying young Phillip. And secondly, show the man in."

Phillip nodded quickly, then returned shortly with the messenger in question. It was Jack's old friend from Bombay, the one whom often checked in on his mother for him, Michael. Jack ran up ready to embrace him, but stopped suddenly when he saw his friend's expression. Jack's blood suddenly seemed to be pounding deafeningly in his ears; his skin broke out into a cold, clammy sweat. He opened his mouth to say something, and felt sickeningly dizzy. All he could manage was a rather squeezed sounding, "What?"

Michael licked his pale lips. He was holding a package in his hands that was marked with moisture, perhaps from nervously sweating hands. "Jonathan…your momma is…" Jack didn't hear the word so much as felt it kick him in the stomach. All at once he felt himself fall back, landing on the floor as his legs just gave out from underneath him. He thought he felt his friend's hand on his shoulder, he thought he heard Phillip offer him rum. He felt a burning in his eyes and lifted a hand to brush the liquid fire out from them so he could see more clearly. Then he thought nothing.

Later he sat at his desk with a letter in his hands. He had read it he knew not how many times already, but still he read it again:

_Dearest Jonathan, if I may still call you that,_

_I don't believe that I am long for this world, and my only regret lies in not seeing you again. Our last meeting was not one I would have chosen to be our last. Still my son, this is life. I wanted to tell you that I have heard people speaking of you. They say you have made quite a name for yourself. The tradesmen say you could be one of the best ever, and the pirates say the same each claiming you for their own! I do not care which you choose, only be a good man._

_Your father would be so proud of you. I am sending you a ring that was his along with this letter. I will have Michael bring it to you, he is a good boy. But, I worry you will be harsh to him because of the news he brings. I know you; hold your temper! Don't shoot the messenger, my son… _

_Remember to always see your way clearly. I find I can think of nothing else to say, so I will use your own words: Leaving you will be the hardest thing._

The next morning saw Jack at the wheel as they headed off. He had put on his kohl with precision that morning and had placed his father's ring on his hand. His thick, black hair was plaited into a braid at the back of his head. His mother's letter lay underneath the folds of his shirt close to his heart. He still felt like a rag rung out too tightly, but he was determined to continue on.

Weeks later, when he arrived ahead of scheduled in Africa he felt proud of himself. He even personally went to find the contact Beckett had addressed a note to and delivered it to him from his own hand. When he did, the man smiled at Jack, shook his hand and made the kind of small talk that one soon forgets afterwards. In fact, Jack didn't stop the sensation of sleepwalking until they came to the "cargo".

"Now," the round, pig nosed man was saying, "I won't tell you how to do your business, as I'm sure you know better than I, but I say pack the big ones in first, because then you can always squish the small ones in somewhere… and since they aren't as valuable anyway…"

Jack was confused, and a bit horrified. All he saw were people standing and sitting sadly, most chained together. He bit his tongue to keep the venom at bay then asked the man, "Pardon, but are these people the cargo of which you speak?"

The man looked quizzically at Jack for a moment, almost cocking his head. "What do you mean? Of course they are! Now then, if you'll just follow….."Jack stopped listening here. He nodded his head and smiled the smile of someone who would rather sell his soul than stoop this low. Now he understood his momma. Now he knew the truth. He would rather hang on the gallows than become a legend for this.

So, that night, after all of the slaves had been loaded into _the Wicked Wench_, Jack steered out of one harbor only to turn around a while later to pull into another one. He and his crew worked all the while to free the chains from each and every man, woman and child; all 100 of them. As they helped them off the ship, there wasn't a dry eye among anyone, either the rescued or the rescuers. One young woman, a very attractive girl with skin the color of cocoa, embraced him while whispering words that he couldn't understand. Then she kissed him before turning to join her waiting family. _Now, I definitely deserved that._ Jack thought with a smile…


	9. Chapter 9 The Lady and the Sparrow

Ahoy Maties! Weclome back to the Empress! Big choices lay head for our captian and crew. What will happen? Unfortunatley, you might have to wait a wee bit for the answers. Finals are coming up for me and I really should study... will I? Probably not! Anyway, an update may be a week or two coming. That'll give pleabty of time for you all to give feedback ::tee-hee::

A huge thank you for all of the support I've been getting! If this is turning out good, it has a lot to do with that!

I'll shut up now. Enjoying it? Let me know!

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Chapter 9- The Lady and the Sparrow

"Now, needless to say that when Beckett heard about this, he was not pleased at all." Kate took a moment's pause to sip some water to refresh her throat. The cook had brought them all food and drink a little while ago, as the dinner hour had come. She had been too busy talking to touch her salmagundi, but she noticed that hers was not the only plate still full. Elizabeth hadn't eaten a bite either, nor had she looked at Kate the entire time. _Interesting,_ thought Kate. She continued the story, "Jack, on the other hand was not pleased with Beckett either, and let it be known to anyone who would listen that Beckett was a liar, a thief of children and basically the devil himself. In reflection on it, he probably should have been a little more subtle, but then again, subtle is not a Jack strong suit. Beckett had to do something to discredit Jack, or his own reputation would be gone….

_The Wicked Wench_ sat like a black swan in the lapis waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Along side her was another ship; a pirate ship that had come up short on supplies and, knowing Jack's reputation, had stopped to petition him for help.

"Oh Bugga." Jack's dark eyes flashed over the horizon quickly, obviously calculating and measuring up the situation.

"What is it, Captain Sparrow? Is something amiss?" The pirate looked out and saw only another India Company vessel. "Oh, I see… you're worried for me? Don't be. My ship is lightening compared to those soggy buffoons! We can outrun 'em before they even come close to catching us…"

Jack turned his gaze from the ocean, the corners of his mouth turning up into an ironic, but none the less charming smile. "First of all mate, I don't think they're here for you," this drew a confused look from his companion. "Secondly, a ship with that kind of fire power doesn't need to catch you to blow you clear out of the water, savy?" The pirate nodded a little embarrassed at the apparent stupidity of their statement. Jack screwed up his mouth as he thought for a second, then with a nod of his head he continued, "But, come to think of it, he's the kind of real twit who would love to take a pirate down just for kicks, so get out of here, and fast." The pirate stood open mouthed and defiant, protesting leaving him alone to face whatever threat it was apparent he saw, but Jack just turned away, walking with heavy boot falls and steady strides to the wheel. He called over his shoulder, "Get out of here, and don't look back. I'll head 'em off and buy you escape time…."

"And that was it." Kate said this with a look of mixed anger and sadness. "As soon as _The Wicked Wench_ was in range Beckett opened fire on her. Jack went aboard to offer himself in exchange for the life of his crew and his boat, but that shark hearted fungus just ordered another volley, scuttling his beautiful girl to the depths along with I don't know how many of his men." She shivered a little at the thought. "Beckett branded him a Pirate, and Jack probably just figured he would do exactly what his momma said. He became the best pirate there ever was. Now, add you're part of the story and it seems that, along with embracing pirate ways, he decided to try his sweet talk on Davey Jones to get _the Wench_ back."

Will and Gibbs both widened their eyes as they simultaneously said, "The Black Pearl!"

Kate nodded. "That's my guess." She sighed and leaned forward on her desk. "Now, to your request: you want _the Empress_ because you want to get Jack back from where ever he is, yes?" Nods. "Why do you think he's alive at all? You saw the Pearl, with him on it, getting eaten by the Kraken. What makes ya believe there is any chance in all of this?"

She could see wheels turning in their heads, searching for the perfect words to prove their point and win their passage. Only Tia seemed prepared to answer: "'Dere is more ta bein' alive den livin'…'dere is more to livin' den bein' alive." Her eyes seemed almost black in this light, and they smoldered like two live coals taken from the fire.

Kate was a little wary of her, but she held her ground, demanding a better explanation than this. "That was both wonderfully poetic and completely meaningless at the same time. I wonder, could you be a little less vague?"

Tia cocked her head at the Lady with an almost comical air. She obviously was not used to people wanting her to explain herself more clearly. Honestly, she thought it made perfect sense, and couldn't see why the captain hadn't understood. She thought for a moment and tried again. "Sometimes, people seem to be lost, but dey aren't. Death happens often, but a soul gettin' lost happens more often still. It weren't Jack's time to die. His life was taken, stolen from him. He should have died on his own terms. Dat is what I hear." Elizabeth was beginning to grow paler, and Kate noticed that Will saw this too. He looked away quickly from her, his eyes the picture of one concentrating very hard on something else so as not to think about the growing anxiety crowding their guts.

Kate addressed Tia, "What do you mean? Captain Sparrow is, I think we can all agree, no longer with us, so who are you hearing this from?"

Tia sighed as though she were trying to explain something to a very small child and was becoming tired of all the 'why's. "'Dere was a man who was dead. He kept his soul from going too far by strength of will. Da will o' wisps come to me by my river and dey tell me he wans help. As long as dere is at least one person still in dis world who would die for de lost soul, dey can be found." Gibbs wondered who would want Barbossa back so badly… probably someone he owed money to…or rum. Tia continued, "Da wisps, dey tell me Jack need help. Dat he is lost an' hurt an' wai'tin for someting to happen. Him body and soul are wai'tin where death cannot find him, and where life can only go if one will risk losin' dere own." She looked out the window and seemed to fade a little, as though the effort of explaining so much had worn her thin.

Kate knew she would get no more from the woman. She asked herself if she would risk her own life for saving Jack, the only hope of a future of freedom for any who live for the sea. She knew that she would, but she also knew what she could not risk. Kate addressed them all very slowly and seriously. "You are asking me to risk the lives of my crew, my family, for little more than the word of a river witch, all respect to her." Kate shook her head slowly, "I think ya will all understand if I say that I need some time to think on the matter." Here she nodded to Sergeant, who rose and opened the door. He told them in a light voice not to worry and at least they would have a comfortable night with a warm place to sleep and before that music and rum.

As the door closed, Kate realized that her eyes were closed and that someone was still in the room. She had a fair guess who it was. "Yes, miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth stood opposite Kate's desk looking down at the papers and maps on top of it. She licked her lips and spoke as though she had chosen her words carefully before hand, no matter what Kate's answer would be. "You were the pirate Jack saved, weren't you? It was _the Empress_ that survived where _the Wench_ did not."

Kate smiled at the girl. She couldn't help thinking that she'd make a fairly good pirate herself, if she could rid herself of whatever squeamishness kept her from admitting whatever it was she was trying so hard not to. "'Aye, luvie."

Elizabeth slammed her hands down on the desk, eyes blazing up into Kate's own almost as Tia's had, sending papers and a quill pen flying to the floor. "THEN WHY WON'T YOU HELP HIM?!! ISN'T THERE SUPPOSED TO BE SOME HONOR AMONG PIRATES!"

Kate looked back at Elizabeth unflinchingly. She shook her head sadly. "It isn't as easy as all that. Would I give my own life for the chance to bring Jack back, to repay him? In a minute. But, I have my men to think about. Sacrificing your own life for something is one thing, but sacrificing another's life in pursuit of something you yourself want is another thing altogether. Something I am not prepared to do. Certainly not without giving them a choice."

She expected Elizabeth to cry. She expected her to scream and rant or maybe throw something. Instead, she turned white as a sheet and promptly fell to the wooden planks, like a marionette suddenly cut from its strings.

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Salmagundi – a pirate favorite! A dish made with any combination of chopped up meat, eggs, anchovies, onions, cabbage, grapes and herring all seasoned with salt, pepper, vinegar, garlic and oil. 


	10. Chapter 9 and a half, Dreaming

Okay Hello 'ello

Finals are over ::yeah:: and here is another chapter...sort of!

I hope you all enjoy... it's a little creepy, but its supposed to be!

PLEASE (!!) R&R! Don't make me beg! 'Cause I will!! ;p

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even these words. I think Webster's Dictionary owns them :)

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Chapter 9 ½ - Dreaming of Nightmares

As she felt consciousness slowly flooding back to her senses, she became aware of three things. The first was that her head hurt… a lot. 'This…' thought Elizabeth lightly, as though heavy thoughts would cause it to hurt more, 'is what a hangover feels like'. The mention of hangovers brought to her a lightening flash image of Captain Jack Sparrow laughing, and this picture was enough to vault her wide awake causing her to notice the last two of the three conditions she now found herself in. She was soaking wet and it was freezing cold.

She jumped quickly to her feet, and upon landing hard on her bum in the snow discovered that this was a mistake. Elizabeth raised herself cautiously onto shaking arms, but whether they were shaking due to cold or due to being lightheaded she couldn't say. And, there was one other possible cause of her tremors: fear. "Wh-where a-am I?" she stammered the words aloud, half just to hear her own voice and half to make sure she still could make use of her throat. She felt certain of nothing, and couldn't seem to remember where she was or how she got there. "W-w-well, wha-at I d-do know is-s that if-f-f I da-don't move, I will sh-surely freeze to…" _Death._ She didn't say the final word. Why hadn't she? She couldn't say.

Slowly Elizabeth raised herself from the frozen earth. Snow fell off of her back and shoulders, which made her wonder exactly how long she had been there. She shivered uncontrollably and tried to pull her thin, boy coat around her. This did her no good at all, because the coat was not only a paltry defense against cold to begin with, but it was also as soaking wet as the rest of her. Indeed, as she moved her arms she noted that a thin layer of ice had formed already on her garments. Her eyelashes and hair also felt heavy with frost and ice. She tried to walk, and lost balance immediately, tumbling over into a drift of snow. Elizabeth came up spitting white powder, cursing and on the verge of tears. She forced them back, gritted her teeth and stood again. This time, knowing her legs were encased in frozen sheathes of cloth, she took small steps to crack the ice first and make it easier for her to maneuver.

Through chattering teeth and the noise of crunching clothes and snow, the young governor's daughter tried to remember where she was and why she was here. What was the last thing she could think of? _I remember a boat…The Pearl. And…_ the dark, laughing eyes formed again in her mind's eye, _Jack! Captain Sparrow! _She smiled and for a moment felt a warmth against the snow. Her arms hugged her more closely now. _Yes. Jack and Will will come and save me_. She felt very sure about this, because Will was, after all, her fiancé and childhood sweetheart and Jack was…

"Yes, who is Jack to you exactly?" A voice suddenly came at Elizabeth from her left side. She turned to face it and saw a beautiful young woman sitting at a desk with a book in front of her. Elizabeth recognized the woman immediately, and was so happy to see her that she hardly noticed the other woman was dressed as for warm weather and didn't seem in the least bit cold.

"Miss-s-s Beltrane!" Will's lost fiancé exclaimed.

Her old tutor turned her sad eyes on her one time pupil. "Don't stand with your mouth gapping, child. You were asked a question. Do you need it repeated?"

Elizabeth felt a little hurt by the way Miss Beltrane was acting. She also noticed that her shivers seemed to be getting worse. "J-jack Sparrow is…" what was he? She shook her head and began again, "C-capta-ain Spa-arrow is-s…" Again she faltered. What was she trying to say? She knew it when she thought, but when she opened her mouth she forgot.

"Are you trying to say, "friend", dear?"

"Y-yes, Miss Beltrane", her old habit of answering her tutor in this formulated manner seemed to come back of its own will.

Her former teacher's soft green eyes filled with compassion for the young girl before her. "Oh my dear, I'm afraid you can't say that word now."

"Wh-why?" Elizabeth's eyes tried to widen in disbelief but couldn't. They seemed to be frozen. She slammed her lids shut to warm her eyes, but found that she still could not get her lids to open beyond a point.

"Because you do not deserve the use of the word, I'm afraid." Elizabeth flinched as though physically hit. She found that she could no longer blink. "Come here, dear." It was a command, and yet there was no malice in the voice, only sadness. Elizabeth approached the desk at which her old tutor sat. Her legs were now heavy with ice and her hair clung in icicles down her back and face. Miss Beltrane pushed a book in front of her face. She recognized it immediately; it was one that she had begged her teacher to read to her after finding it in her father's library. Elizabeth remembered all of the engravings in it as though she had just looked at them, especially the ones illustrating the dark madness of Hell. "Do you know what this is?"

Elizabeth tried to lick her lips, but her tongue seemed frozen inside her blue lipped mouth. She nodded, and her crystal locks tinkled. She could not speak, so she thought her answer _Dante's Devine Comedy_.

"Yes, child, specifically the section entitled 'Inferno'. Look at the book, my dear, and you will understand."

Elizabeth tried to remember what that section was about. Hell, she knew, but what did that have to do with her? She thought if she looked at the plate on the page, it would help her to think. She lowered her creaking head slowly; she was beyond shivering now and could see that her skin had actually turned a pale blue. _At least I won't die alone_…_What a horrible thing to think…_

Then she saw the illustration on the page and felt as never before the burning pain of the cold through out her body. She would have screamed, shut her eyes or cried but she could do none of these things. Instead, she was forced to look and worse to remember.

This section, this specific verse (or canto) was dedicated to the lowest circles of hell, those who betray the people they love. The drawing was of Elizabeth herself, kissing Jack with Will looking on. She had betrayed them both, and condemned Jack to die by himself on the Pearl…_alone_.

She looked up at Miss Beltrane, who only nodded sadly. _That is why I'm here. I am in the frigid depths of Pluto, wrought by my own soul. I am Judah, who betrayed with a kiss. _She felt very off balance, and was suddenly very afraid. The cold was burning her even worse now, and she feared that if she fell over she would break into a thousand pieces. She staggered forward, but there was no desk to catch hold of. It had gone along with her teacher. She tried to regain her balance, but her frozen body overcompensated and she fell in an immobile heap on her back. Unable to make a noise, unable to blink, she stared up at the gray sky. She wondered how long it would take snow to cover her, and what it would look like under a blanket of snow.

Then she heard the crunching of boots behind her. She tried franticly to get up or scream or even hum, but no movement came from her body or throat. The boots stopped inches away from her, and their owner knelt down in the snow just beyond the line of her peripheral vision. Before she had time to wonder what would happen, sopping wet braids slapped down on her cold face and a familiar voice whispered in her frozen ear, "'Ello, luv. Care to join me for a dip in the sea?"

Slowly the braids moved from her face, dripping water as they went and dragging sea-weed with them. The face was going to come into view at any moment, and it would be Jack's, but not Jack's. _NO!_ Elizabeth screamed in her head, _NO! It's not Jack, Jack is not dead, this is not real, we're going to find him! This is not Jack! This is not Jack!..._

A grey, wet hand came into her line of sight, dripping with sea and ooze. A hallow chuckle was heard from the throat that was not Jack's. "Not good 'ol Jack? Does that mean you won't want to kiss me again? Oh wait, there's no mast to chain me to and you are already lost! Nobody's saving you now, lass! Not even if you kill them to do so!" Evil laughter followed, and the shifting of body weight beside her told her he was getting up and leaving her. _No, Jack! We're coming for you, we're coming… Jack!!"_

"JAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

Elizabeth found herself lying down on a comfortable bed in the captain's quarters. "Bad dream?" She turned and saw Lady Kate sitting at her desk in the glow of a single candle. Elizabeth might have imagined it, but the look in the captain's eyes reminded her alot of Miss Beltrane's: sad and just a little mistrusting.


	11. Chapter 10 Confessions of Sorts

Ahoy:) Here we are, and our Captain is getting a might antsy and suspicious! One more chapter for these guys, then we go see what Jack is up to!

If you're enjoying it, let me know! Drop me a little line, no seriously! One or two words would be fine. Like "Good Job"…see? That took like a second!

OH, and there's some opportunities coming up for guest appearances. You see, I'm really bad with coming up with names and appearances and stuff. So if you wanna be in the next couple of chapters, drop me a line! (Bribe? Me?? Never ;p)

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Chapter 10- Confessions of Sorts

Elizabeth stared open mouthed at Kate, but to the latter it seemed as though the young girl's wild eyes saw nothing. In truth, Elizabeth didn't know what to feel upon waking. She felt relieved that the nightmare image of a dead Jack had not manifested itself beside her, but feared exactly how much her fevered mind had unknowingly revealed to the woman captain. Slowly, she willed herself to release her grip on the sheet that had been placed over her.

"My apologies Lady Kate, the past few days must have taken more of a toll on me than I realized"

Kate nodded slowly, "Aye, so it would seem. Restless minds often war against the body, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth was beginning to worry that Kate knew everything. A cold sweat began to rise on her skin. _No, I mustn't allow myself to assume anything. The most important thing is to gain her trust and secure help to find Jack. _With this thought in her mind, she smiled weakly but sweetly at the captain. "Thank you so much for your kindness in allowing me to stay here. I'm just so worried about finding Jack…"

"Yes, it seemed you were saying something about that before you woke."

Elizabeth's smile did nothing to betray the sinking of her heart as it was reminded of the nightmare. She could almost hear the watery wraith of Jack Sparrow whispering in her ear, _Traitor._ Lady Kate knew she was hiding something, but how could she get the girl to confess it? The lives of her crew rested on her decision to go after Captain Sparrow, but more than that might be risked in not getting him back. Who else was crazy enough to go against the entire East India Company and their new lap dog Davey Jones? She began again slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Miss Elizabeth, if there is something troubling you, I wish you would share it. Thoughts that trouble the mind in sleep bode ill, and if you are to be on my crew in this undertaking it would bode ill for all."

Elizabeth looked at Kate and for a moment she could feel the need to confide the truth of her black deed to a ready ear, an ear that would not feel betrayed by the admission, almost overwhelm her. But, what if in hearing that she had condemned Jack she decided not to let Elizabeth come along? What if her leaving Jack had been tantamount to mutiny? Would that leave Elizabeth stranded on an island without anyway to make anything right? She didn't think Lady Kate looked the type that would abandon anyone to a fate like that, but she might not trust Elizabeth afterwards. Worse yet, upon hearing that she had bound Jack in irons to the mast of _the Pearl,_ the captain might decide that there was no way he could have survived and so not try to help them at all. Noticing that Elizabeth's lips were parted to speak, but that words were long in coming, Kate cocked her head and nodded at the girl, as though the signal would jar her into sharing whatever revelation was caught on her tongue. Elizabeth knew she had to think of something to say; anything as long as it wasn't the truth.

"I am worried that we are too late." _A good start thought Elizabeth, but I have to make it sound more convincing, bring something up to distract her_. "Tia Dalma said that she just knew where to find Jack, and that he was alive to be found. But we really have no proof. All we have is her word and the word of that bilge rat Barbosa," the pirate slang slipped out before she could sensor herself, but somehow she thought it helped to emphasize what she was saying. Then, to make sure her intended implication hit its mark squarly, she added with perfect sincerity, "After all, he mutinied on Jack and I suspect wants _the Pearl_ back more than its captain."

Kate frowned. "Maybe so, but I doubt even Barbosa wants Jones' heart in the hands of that devil Beckett." She sighed and stood up from behind her desk, moonlight spilling across half of her face as she turned her gaze to the window. "You best be joinin' your friends, Miss Elizabeth. I have much to consider." With a nod, Elizabeth rose and walked out of the room. Her head was swimming with her lies, her list of deceits growing seemingly by the second. As she closed the door behind her and walked to the railing of _the Empress_, she realized that she hadn't taken a breath since standing from the bed. She inhaled sharply, as though she was surfacing from the black waters before her. What had she done and what was she doing?

Oooooooo)(ooooooooO

Lady Kate stood staring out the window thinking about what Elizabeth had said. It seemed that she didn't trust the river witch, but then again neither did Kate. She also didn't trust Elizabeth, however. The girl was definitely hiding something, something that she was desperate to hide but that was nonetheless troubling her. She thought back on her strange behavior during her meeting with the crew of the long boat.

_Now, that girl seemed to go pale whenever we spoke about the fate that befell Jack and the Pearl. She was silent about every point, except why Jack thought he had Davey Jones' heart. How could she be so sure of that…._

With a knock, Sergeant opened the heavy wooden door to her cabin. She watched his reflection in the window's glass as he closed the door behind him and sought her face reflected in the pane himself.

"Well Cap'n? What you make of all this? The crew, you should know, are already buzzin' on the whole matter, and you're getting' pretty high odds on you savin' Cap'n Sparrow. I myself put down a sovereign." He smiled broadly at her, but when she turned and he noticed how serious her eyes looked, the corners of his mouth tucked down into a studied frown. "Orders?"

Kate sighed. "There seems to be little for it, Sergeant. If we don't try, no one will. All that remains is how to do it without our friends at the Company getting suspicious too soon, and how to get you and the crew off."

"Whoa there!" Sergeant jerked his head so violently that a piece of sandy colored hair fell free from the tie at his neck. "I am not going any where," he raised his hand with a finality that made even his captain stop her protest short, "and as for the crew I think you owe it to them to let them decide for themselves whether they come along or not".

Kate grimaced but nodded an assent. "Then the only other thing that remains is to speak to that Tia person again". She smiled as she saw her steadfast first mate surreptitiously place a hand in his pocket, no doubt making a sign against the evil eye.

His voice came out with the tiniest hint of a quaver, "Why do you be needin' to do that, now?"

"I want some more assurances." Kate answered simply. "And Sergeant," she added, her right hand subconsciously balling into a fist, "watch that Elizabeth Swann. Don't let her out of your site if you can help it."

"Why? We don't trust her either? You think she'll try something?"

"Worse than that; I'm afraid she already has done something." She turned her back and looked out the window again, watching the waves and wondering how much you can hide from an enemy that could sense you anywhere you went on the very road you needed to travel. "She's the one who gave bloody Norrington the bloody heart."


	12. Chapter 11 All Ashore

Hello all! A sort one fer now, but part two will be along directly. Things are heating up now, and sorry for the mushy bit, but I hope you like it (let me know or maybe I'll just keep doing it!! ;p)

After part II, chapter 12 will be Captain Jack Sparrow!

Drama, Romance, Mystery, all here for you, kind reader! SO, drop a line and let me know how you're likin' it!

Also, same deal, if you have names for me, let me have 'em, PLEASE:)

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Chapter 11 part I: All Ashore 

The first mate of the Empress stood on deck overseeing the scuttling of the former transportation her newest acquired crew had taken to get aboard. It made Jacob sad to watch, but as he sighingly reminded himself, it was his duty as well as a necessary action. It had been decided in a small meeting between himself, Lady Kate, the boy William and the older man Gibbs that the best way to forestall any suspicion would be to simply get rid of the evidence altogether. An empty boat drifting manlessly on the ocean invited all sorts of speculation and investigation; two things that they certainly could use avoiding.

"That'll run it, Sergeant." A lanky boy drill in hand and barely fifteen years of age addressed Jacob the way they all did. How it had started was a long story, one hardly ever asked by new comers. It was simply accepted at this point.

Jacob nodded and gave the order to put her to "kiss the water one last time". The small but lovely wooden craft filled quickly and soon was drifting under the surface. Before finally abandoning itself to the ocean's embrace, the bow raised itself in a salute to the Empress. Jacob touched his forehead to the condemned in respect, watching as the boat's bow disappeared altogether. He watched until he could no longer see the strange red lines and squiggles that had decorated her hull then silently slipped away off deck to the waiting comfort of a mug of rum.

oOoOoOoOo

Kate had decided to keep things from the crew until they had reached their next scheduled port. At said port, she had intended to leave them all behind and continue on the dangerous journey before her into lands and waters unknown. This was what she had intended, to go it alone in order to protect her crew. Sergeant, as always, would not allow it.

"You owe it to them," he said, looking in her eyes with fierce conviction burning in his own. He almost never looked at her directly and held her gaze for this long, and this time Kate found it was she that needed to look away. The next time he spoke, his voice was softer. He spoke so low that she almost had to stop breathing just to hear him. "I told you before; the crew have their own minds. Most of them would see it as cowardice not to attend ya in this, and the rest would just as soon not pass up an opportunity to meet Jack Sparrow." It was left unspoken as to why he himself would not leave her to this task alone. The shadow falling over Kate's face was one not just caused by light, but also by the fears clouding over her mind. _Damn my eyes_, Jacob thought to himself, _I promised agin' it, but…_ He reached a hand out and brushed a loose hair behind Kate's ear. Then he crocked a finger under her chin and drew her face up until gray eyes met green. Neither of them seemed to be breathing now, as he forced himself to speak smoothly, "The crew will do right by them. You lead none that wouldn't rather die than not follow". He tried hard not to allow emotion to bleed into his words. He had tried to keep his mouth from twitching its corners down. He had tried not to let his gaze fall to his captain's lips. He even tried not to notice when she had dropped her own gaze to his. He especially worked hard at trying not noticing how close they were….

And as a knock came on the door, causing them to fly apart as leaves blown by a hurricane wind, Jacob soundly cursed himself for succeeding so well in trying. Lady Kate composed herself in seconds (to Jacob's disappointment) and called forth the interloper.

"We're at port, Cap'n, and the crew are waitin' fer ya on deck as ordered."

"Thank you, Simon." The red haired man smiled, nodded briskly and left to return to the rest of the men. Kate walked to the door and addressed Jacob without looking at him, "Ready, Sergeant?"

Jacob sighed inwardly but forced the painful lump out of the way of his voice box. In his most cheerful tone he answered his captain, "Aye, aye Lady – right behind ye!"


	13. Chapter 11, prt 2

Hello :) Sorry it took so long, I got the flu and then school started up again (buggah.)

Anyways, here it is! Lots of pirate speak in this one. Next chapter sees the return of Jack, but I confess only at the very end. However, after that one, Chapter 13 (fittingly) is all Jack and special guest appearances!

The next chapter won't take as long, probably be up by the Weekend or before the end of the weekend at least.

Please leave a review! Enjoy!

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Chapter 11.5

Lady Kate stood on the deck of the Empress looking every bit as calm as she did not feel. The light breeze blew pleasantly from somewhere past the harbor city they were docked at bringing with it all the scents from within. Spices, baked meats and breads were among the more delectable; the less savory were just as well not noticed or mentioned. The light from the still young sun warmed her back and glinted off the ruby ring on her upraised hand with which she signaled for quite and attention among her crew.

"Scallywags and gentleman, the latter of which are obviously elsewhere…" A hoot of appreciative laughter went up from the ranks while Sergeant made a face of mock indignance. "I will only trouble you for a moment before turning you loose upon the unsuspecting people of this quaint little sea-port". She moved her arm closest to the docks in a sweeping motion, and again all laughed.

Kate's smile faltered as she looked around at her men. Her men. She thought sadly back on the day she had inherited the Empress from her father, and more than half of these men had been there at that terrible beginning. How many of them would leave? How many of them might loose their lives as a consequence of not leaving? How many would she never see again? She could feel a lump of steel like a buck shot rising in her throat. She tried to cough it away before anyone would notice. One of the men closest to her did however, and he quietly asked her what the matter was.

"Cap'n? Is someot the matter?" Kate looked down from the stair she always stood on when addressing everyone (she did not use the height for authority, it was really more for the practicality of allowing everyone to hear her). It was Mayhew, a man that had known her father and had even taken care of her when once she came down with a particularly bad illness at sea as a young girl. His bushy black eyebrows knitted together in obvious concern as he looked up at her.

Kate forced a smile, reminding herself that she needed to stay steady at the moment. "Aye, Mayhew. I be fine. I'm only a bit out of humour at the thought of parting with so much of this!" She stepped aside an in one smooth yet rather overly dramatic movement she revealed a chest that had been concealed behind her on a large wooden crate. Mummers went up from the crew, and before they could die down their captain opened chest with a flourish revealing row upon row of neatly tied leather purses. The men looked up at her expectantly. This was highly irregular. Kate lifted her right hand while keeping her left resting gingerly on the dark polished wood of the chest's lid. "Maties, it comes to this. The Empress and I have been called into duty. A special quest if you will; the object of which is to go after and save a particular corsair who may intern be able to save all scallywags everywhere. But this particular Jack is very far away and in an…" Kate paused thinking what she should say next, "uncertain condition. In short, men, it's bound to be a devil's errand and may end up in naught more than being bilged on our own anchor." A few of the men turned pale at the seriousness of Kate's words; the implication being clear that she might not be coming back from where ever it was she was going. Others had seized on the use of her word "Jack" as an unintended (though never the less correct) clue, and knew right away that this wasn't just any Jack, this was Captain Jack Sparrow! The rumors among them had been correct!

Hisses of whispered conversations rose up immediately, causing Sergeant to yell out in a deep, threatening bellow, "Avast ye dogs! Yer Capt', ain't done talking to you yet!" They grew quiet again and looked at Kate.

"I will not tell ye to go, and I will not tell ye to stay. I have been reminded and rightly so, that ye are all good men. And as such, you deserve the choice." She glanced at Sergeant with a small smile; it was her way of apologizing. He nodded with a small smile of his own. "And here is yer choice. In this chest are equal shares of our coffers. And over there," she pointed out to the harbor docks and city beyond, "is a week of shore leave. All of ye will take a purse upon leaving. Some of you still have duties to help us ready the ship before we can weigh anchor. When all is said an done and the week is up and we be ready to sail, you either come with us or ye don't. After the job's done, I'll be back here to collect those who want to return aboard." Instantly, voices rose up – some with indignant cries abashed that their captain would even consider they would leave and others with excuses of family and home. Either one was too painful for Kate at the moment. She raised a hand for silence, and when it came she continued, "I don't wanna hear it yet. Yer answer will be given a week from today. And no excuses are necessary then either. If you come with its cause you want, if you stay its cause you must and there will be the end of it. Now, get to it! Go to your post and have yerselves some fun! One purse a piece, I'll have no hornswagglin' here! Remember to have a good clap of thunder of me!" She then turned on her heel and walked back to her cabin.

Her head throbbed as though a cannon had been fired off right next to her. She breathed deeply in, ignoring the blur forming in front of her from her moistening eyes. With the heels of her hands, she rubbed at her eyes and forehead in an effort to banish both tears and headache. Then she walked right into William Turner.

"OOF!" Kate fell to the deck on her bum with a thud.

"Oh! Oh! Lady Kate! I'm so…oh are you alright? I'm so terribly sorry!" The young man's cheeks were flush with embarrassment as he helped her to her feet, clumsily stepping on one of hers as he did so. Kate tried no to laugh as she looked at her assaulter and rescuer.

"Yes, Will, I'm fine and please, just Kate is fine. Besides, it's my own fault for not looking…" her voice dropped as she noticed the look of worry on his face. "Will, what's wrong?"

Will swallowed hard and looked to the side for a moment. They could hear the noise of the men leaving the Empresses, all loud voices and heavy boats. He swallowed again and looked up at Kate, with the expression of a small child bravely admitting a wrongdoing and accepting the forthcoming punishment. "It's Tia and Elizabeth. They've gone."

* * *

Corsair- a pirate who sails under no country's jurisdiction.

Jack- a generic term for a sailor (or the flag of one's ship)

"bilged on our own anchor"- like "hoisted by his own petard"; means done in or harmed by one's own actions.

coffers- not strictly speaking a pirate word, but means treasure or saved wealth

hornswagglin'- cheating

clap of thunder- a stiff, hard drink


	14. Chapter 12 The One you Least Expect

Sorry everyone! Things got crazy in real life. There was a death in my family and understandably everything has kinda gotten out of whack. I'm struggling to catch up school and everything, so for now here's part one of Chapter 12. Enjoy and more coming very soon .

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Chapter 12 – The One you least Expect to Find Is….

"What do you mean they're gone?" Kate looked at the young man before her with her eyes wide. This was just going to be one problem after another.

Will returned her expression with a fierce blush and shrugged helplessly. He licked his dry lips, eye brows knitting together as he searched for an answer to give the Lady. "I really can't explain it. I saw Tia wandering around mumbling something about us needing protection, but when I went to ask her if I could be of any assistance she told me that I should go find Elizabeth." Here William paused and a cloud of confusion and dismay passed over his hansom features. For a moment Kate forgot to be upset at the situation and felt only sympathy for whatever was troubling his spirit so much. But then, she remembered the gravity of the situation. If Elizabeth, or any of these "fugitives" from the East India Trading Company were caught, and it was discovered who was now helping them….

"And what happened then?" She tried not to sound too harsh, but right now she didn't have time to coddle Will and allow him to drift among whatever thoughts the troubled sea of his mind had churning about him.

"I couldn't find her. Anywhere. I've been searching all over the ship and she's no where. And now, Tia is gone as well."

"Oh hell's high waters!" Kate cursed softly as she turned hurridly on her heel to leave the ship.

"Where will we look for them?"

She looked over her shoulder to see William following her anxiously. "WE are looking no where. It's bad enough to have one of you wanted devils out there. But, one may go unnoticed. Two doubles the risk, and we are already risking quite enough for my liking, young master Turner. You will stay here. And, should that bonny lass or crazy witch show up in my absence, you are to politely explain to them the idiocy of their actions." She stopped walking for a moment and turned to face Will, who looked as though he might explode with feelings of guilt and powerlessness. She felt suddenly very sorry for him again. Kate raised her harm and put her hand lightly on his shoulder. "You seem to be the only one of my 'new crew' with sense in their skulls, Will. I know I can count on you to be a help. While I'm gone, see that the riggings are made fast and that repairs are begun sharply."

Will brightened a bit and gave Kate a sheepish smile, "Aye, aye Captain."

Kate returned the smile and began walking away again. "Oh, and Will," she called over her shoulder catching his attention before he was out of ear shot, and with a wicked little grin at him she said, "there is some spare rope below deck that works wonders for politeness."

OoOoOoOoOoO

Seconds later she found herself nearly running down gangplanks and docks with only one thought in her head. She needed to find Elizabeth and Tia before… before what? Kate stopped short in her tracks and an older gentleman collided into her. He muttered an apology, but she really hadn't even noticed the impact. She stood rooted to the spot, wondering what this odd premonition of urgency was. She slowly turned about in a circle, searching faces in the crowded streets and feeling a little off about it all. It would be difficult enough for her, she rationalized, to find the missing women in a busy port like this, and she was looking for them specifically. What were the chances that anyone else could find them not looking for them? Moreover, she thought to herself calmly, what were the chances that any of those slimy, putrescent excuses for humanity that masquerade as captains and admirals for the East India company would just happen to be at this very station at this very moment? She sighed the deep breath of one who knew very well the odds of bad things were much higher than they would like to admit, but was resolute on ignoring said fact.

Kate decided that, just to look less conspicuous, she would look as though she weren't looking for anyone in particular who might, in turn, be trying to avoid both the looker and the looking after. Confusing herself soundly with this logic, she decided it would be best to head to a pub and grab some rum to steady herself. _Maybe ask around after those two, lovely, inconsiderate, mental…._OOOF!!

_Oh Bugga._


	15. Chapter 12, prt 2 Funny Meeting You Here

Chapter 12.2

Hello I apologize for the long break, (much craziness) and thank certain wonderful people for their support. I would name names, but I don't want to put anybody on the spot. Suffice to say that your kindness was greatly appreciated, more than "Thank you" can say… but thank you

Now, next Chapter is Jack, as promised, and also the special guest appearance of Trinity (with much thanks to Ruby – my hero!)

Read, review, enjoy!

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Chapter 12.2

Kate looked straight ahead into the chest of someone whose face she was praying she would not look up and see. This was not her day to have her prayers answered.

"Ah… Admiral, what a …pleasant surprise." She was hoping that the slight terror in her voice would be edged out by her obvious distain and disgust at being so close to someone she considered worse than the vermin infesting a ship's hold. Taking a step back from her, Norrington study her with icy eyes and a guarded smile.

"The Lovely Lady Kate. And, what brings you here to this port? It's not quite on your route to India, now is it?" The threat was unspoken, but it needn't have been. Kate knew all too well what his implication was. She was expected to answer for her presence here, and if the rat didn't like her answer than he would scurry back and report to that swine of a dog Beckett. Damn she hated them.

"Your concern for my timetable is understandable, Admiral Norrington, "his name and title stuck in her throat like the worst tasting grog she could imagine, still she pressed on, "however, I imagine your concern for the safety of my crew and the ultimate obtaining and delivering of your goods is highest priority, yes?"

"Meaning." It was not a question of interest, but of suspicion and defensiveness.

"Meaning the Empress needed some repairs and we were short on supplies. It is along way around the horn, Admiral. Making it without enough comfort is just as foolhardy as attempting it with a weak hull, savvy?"

Norrington nodded curtly, "Ah yes, quite." His nose wrinkled in obvious contempt as he added, "I do so love the quaint language you _pirates_ use. I will so miss it when you are all bred out of the system, so to speak. No offense of course."

"None taken." Kate hissed in an exhale of breath. "Although, the day we Pirates are no more is the day that all that was once brave and exciting in this world, all spirit and adventure that ever excited the seas, all danger and lust and true emotion will be gone as well."

Norrington looked a little surprised at this sudden outburst of passion, yet quickly resumed his overbearingly smug nature. He laughed at Kate, causing her to hide clenched fists behind her back as her face grew crimson. "Now, now my Lady. There is no need to be so dramatic. I'm quite confident that somehow adventure will be in this world yet, albeit perhaps with a slightly more pleasant aroma."

"And who will bring it, Admiral? Men like you? When will you find the time to do so on such a sort leash? There can be no spirit behind bars." Her words were not said with malice, but with something that reflected a little of the fear and sorrow in her own heart. There was something like pity in it too, for at that moment as she looked at Norrington, Kate realized that what she was saying was truer than either of them realized, and for a moment she could see that he realized it too. Something seemed to melt behind his frosty eyes, their cold blue depth seemed to be touched by some slight ray of light. Had she not been looking so carefully, had she not been so lost in thought, she might have seen Tia before it was too late.

"Pardon me dere mistah, but you dropped sumthin" Her silky voice purred at Norrington, and shaken from their reveries he started at the voice as much as Kate had, but for a different reason. Kate just stared at Tia, stunned that she was there, stunned that she was just casually speaking to Norrington – the very man who was hunting them all. She soon realized that he must have never met Tia before, although honestly the thought did not soothe her much.

Norrington looked at the object Tia held out to him. It was a small gold pin in the shape of a small cross. He looked a bit confused for a moment, but then turned a charming smile onto Tia. "Pardon me, miss, but that isn't mine." He tapped one long finger against the gold bars and circle pined on his chest, "This is the pin of an Admiral… _(a/n actually it would be rear-admiral I suppose, but shortening it would probably happen in everyday conversation—okay back to the story!)_ …what you have there is a captain's insignia."

"Aya, it tis dat… but sometimes what we wear is just what we be hidin' behind… even if we know we don't really fit what we wear. Even if we aren't proud of de way we be earning it." Kate stood in amazement, watching the Admiral squirm under the unblinking eye of the mysterious dark woman. He stammered a reply, which to Kate made no sense, but Tia merely shrugged and put the pin into his hand, "If dat be what you really tink, den so be it. But, remember that mistakes can be fixed, and sometimes to be going truly forward, we need ta go back." She picked up a basket of things that had been besides her, and balancing it on her head she turned to walk towards the pier.

Kate looked at Norrington, as if to gain some understanding of what had just happened, but he seemed totally lost in his own thoughts. She decided to take the opportunity to have her leave of him. "Well, Admiral, it was lovely to see you, but I really must be going and getting, you know, things, um… done." She shrugged her hand in a gesture of explanation, but he seemed not to hear or care. He merely nodded and still staring at the gold pin, he wandered off himself.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Kate panted slightly on the deck of the Empress trying to get her voice and breath back. She had nearly run all the way back after safely leaving Norrington's view. She found William helping her men tie some rigging and explaining to her the Elizabeth had returned shortly before her. "Where…s… Tia?"

Will wriggled his nose as though the memory of some smell haunted his nose and none too pleasantly at that. "She's painting something on the ship…"

True to what he had said, Kate found her painting and whispering to the ship. Her brush looked as though she had shaved the ragged hair from a corpse and lashed the mess together with silver twine. Given the appearance of the brush, Kate did not want to know what the slightly bubbly red substance being slopped on her ship's hull was. She stood and watched as Tia rhythmically and almost seductively caressed the brush against the wooden planks. Kate could not tell if she were singing, praying, or promising the ship her undying love. Perhaps, Kate thought, those are all really the same…

Sergeant came up behind her at that moment. "All repairs are done Cap'n. As soon as Tia's done there, we'll be all set."

Kate nodded and found that she had been swaying on her feet in time to Tia's song and dancing brush. She stopped at once and turned to Sergeant. "Anybody come back?"

Sergeant smiled and said only, "Come see for yourself."

OoOoOoOoO

Kate tried to think if she had ever seen a more gratifying site. A little more than half of her crew awaited her on deck, smiling ear to ear to see her. She tried not to let her feelings of happiness at their support be betrayed, but she was sure they knew. "All right you sea-dogs and demons! To your stations and get us out to sea fast as you get!" Her orders were met with cries of "Aye, Aye!" and a wicked wink from Sergeant. Yet, even in this joy, there was something bothering Kate. She had to talk to Tia, and that quite frankly unsettled her more than the black wall of an approaching thunderstorm.

She found her easily enough; drawing more swirls on deck behind some barrels. It was then that Kate realized where she had seen them before. They had smiled at her from the bow of a sinking long boat not two days ago. As though she had spoken aloud, Tia answered, "Dey are to protect us. Dey will keep even da master of de sea from knowing where we are and who we go wit. As long as de sea don touch dem, he won know dey here". Kate didn't have to ask to know that "dey" meant William, Elizabeth and the others."

But, there was something she had to ask. Kate sat down on the floor next to the darkly beautiful Tia Dalma. Then she dare two things she hadn't yet done. She looked deeply into her eyes and she asked for proof. "Tia, I need to know. Who is it that tells you that Jack is alive? How do you know where he is?"

Tia sighed deeply, and dropped her gaze for a moment. She seemed to be calculating the effort of explaining against the worth of it. Luckily for Kate, the equation apparently added up in her favor.

"The voices are what you hear if you have already been dere. Once when I was a chile, I go to dat place. It was my mudder dat come after me. She come, she tayke me home. But, I still know how to speak with da voice of da lost. Though, I don really remember da way…" her brown brow wrinkled here, as if she was trying to remember something, or perhaps forget.

"That's why you needed Barbosa?"

Tia nodded. "He fresh from dere. He remember. So, now I know too."

"Okay, but how do you know Jack is there? Jack, the Pearl, both of them were eaten by the Kraken. How can he not just be dead? Everyone must not go to that 'other place'…"

"Jack tayke sometin from me last time I see him. It was an amulet. It was de same dat my mudder had given to me, and that is de reason why we go to dat place." The look on Kate's face must have shown her confusion, for she continues to explain this time without any prompting. "Everyone had a body and a soul. Sometimes, when you die, de spirit goes, sometimes it stays. Dis amulet allows your body to stay wit da soul when he goes to da place where de soul waits when it don wan to go on yet."

"And, we're sure Jack's soul wouldn't have wanted to go on?" Tia gave Kate such a look of reproach that the captain felt suddenly and profoundly dumb next to this magical woman. "But, how can you be so sure?"

Tia sighed the sigh of a mother patiently explaining to a child that yes, fire burns when you touch it. She took her bucket into her lap and dipped her hands into it. Rubbing her palms together, she then moved them slowly apart, but kept her thumbs and fore fingers touching. In between them was a thin membrane of reddish, almost soapy looking iridescence. Tia blew gently on this, causing it to grow and bow out into a bubble. In one deft movement that Kate couldn't quite catch though she had been watching closely, the bubble was transformed into a glob that rested on her right palm. Tia's dark eyes flashed with a deep red flame, but whether the light was a reflection from the globe or from their own depths Kate wasn't sure. After a moment of searching the crimson depths, Tia turned her eyes to Kate's. That was her cue, she knew, to look into the bubble herself. What should I be looking for? Kate wondered to herself, but, the answer became so obvious, she gasped and nearly fell over. Grasping her knees for balance, she looked deeply into the red and saw a face she thought she'd never see again.

There, sitting underneath a tree and gazing somewhat blankly ahead of him with kohl rimmed eyes was none other than Captain Jack Sparrow.


	16. Chapter 13 No Man is an Island

Hello! I know that I've been bad with this, please forgive me!! It's been crazy. The GOOD news is, I will be writing like a banshee now, b/c I want the story finished before Pirates 3 comes out. Can I do it? I don't know, and I promise I won't rush it and make it suck just to get it done. I just don't want to be tempted to make anything different just because how the movie turns out. Anywho, here it is! Read, review (PAHLEASE!!) and most importantly, I hope you enjoy.

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Chapter 13: No Man is an Island

A man sat underneath the shady umbrella of a palm tree looking out over rolling dunes of seemingly endless and pristine white sand, stretching out in waves and waves of…

"Nothing." Sighed the man listlessly. He had been sitting there for he knew not how long, just waiting for anything to change. But, the scene before his eyes seemed doggedly determined to do its best to do…

"Absolutely Nothing."

When he had first found himself at this spot, he was startled to find that A) he was all of the sudden nowhere, that B) he was not sure how he had gotten there and C) he could not say for certain who he was. It had been on the tip of his tongue then, and so he had sat down under this very tree to try and remember before he walked this slight shadow of remembrance under his heel. But, all that had come of it was a headache, as the more he tried to remember his name or how he had gotten there, the more seemed to slip away from him. Until he was even more startled to find that he actually remembered…

"Positively, Absolutely, Nothing."

As near as he could tell, he had but three clues, which were these: _Number one_ (he called off to himself), _I am obviously not mean to be here, because if I were meant to be here, than I would know why I were, in fact, here. Further, I would know where here was, and as I know neither where nor how, than it must be more of a 'what the!'. Number two, Where ever this is, this undoubtedly NOT where I am meant to be place, there is equally sure to be a place where I AM supposed to be._ He thought for a moment, looking up into the cool green fronds of his natural cover. He had already discovered that looking at the sky bothered him to no end, yet he could not really say why. The man shook his head, as if banishing these thoughts to be dealt with later and went back to his current train of thinking. _I think the place that I am meant to be is infinitely more appealing than this._ A small frown appeared on his lips, _No, I am certain of that_…. He placed a hand in what had become a ritual movement up to the top of his head. Each time he did this, he felt a shock of loss. He immediately felt a jolt of anxiety and emptiness, as he began to search all around in the sand for something that he would suddenly realize he could not remember. Slowly, after about the umpteenth time of making this fruitless gesture, he realized his third clue. _Number three, I must be used to wearing a hat…_But, even having these clues helped little, because to him they seemed to add up to…

"Unequivocally, Positively, and Absolutely Nothing"

The man vaguely thought that the sand itself might have been a hint. He somehow felt that sand went with something. Like bread and butter, like sun and moon like…

"Like pirates and rum"

He was taken aback by this last pairing. Maybe that was a hint too? He seemed to almost remember, but then when he tried to repeat the phrase so his brain could get a better hold of it…

"Like pi….pah-pah-pie…um…oh bugga" _What had I just said??_ "Pie and ra-re-roo—rhubarb? Like pie and rhubarb?" It seemed a doubtful combination to him, and yet now he couldn't even remember why he was thinking about rhubarb pie in the first place. _Maybe I like rhubarb pie?_ This seemed somehow an unlikely solution, but just to be sure he tried saying out loud to the palm tree "I like rhubarb pie." The tree politely swayed a bit which struck the man as very odd because there was no wind that he could feel.

He stood up on his bare feet to look at the tree better. He took a few steps back from it so that he could see the whole of it better, and sure enough, every so often, the fronds of the tree's head would bob and sway as though being caressed by a gentle breeze. He looked around at the sand to see if it too would be moved by this nonexistent current. The sand seemed as oblivious to the wind as he himself had been. Feeling even more confused, he licked his fingers and held his arm out in front of him. Then just to be sure, he did the same with his other hand. He felt nothing. He moved his arms up. Still nothing. He held them right, left, up, down, turned in a circle and finally in desperation even tried jumping up an down.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And so yelling, he fell fast and hard in the sand on his bum. Exasperated, he fell back on the sand, and in so doing caused a mass of dark hair to fall over his eyes. Pushing it out of the way and staring straight into the sky he suddenly realized why he had been avoiding doing so. At this vantage point, it would have been impossible to ignore. The man with the long, dark hair was staring directly into a large yellow ball. He was staring at the sun, and the sun didn't seem to care. It didn't punish him for his brazen disrespect by burning out his retinas immediately. It didn't even cause his eyes to convulsively squint. It sat passively in the blue globe above him like a child's balloon. He sat up quickly, causing a tangle of hair and beads to cascade over his shoulder and bump harmlessly into his cheek. He looked down over the sands surrounding him. With a sun this strong, and a beach this white, the sand should be burning him right now. And yet, he felt nothing. He reached his left hand out tentatively over the sand, then plunged it into the surface. He expected to feel little, instead he felt…

"nothing."

It was little more than a whispered word, but in that word the man understood everything. He would not feel anything, because he could not feel anything. He was dead. He must be. The only questions that remained were where he was to spend eternity and who he was. He stood up slowly, patting the sand from his clothes. Suddenly he felt he really could use a drink of something very strong…something like

"Rum. Except there seems not to be any around…" he frowned a bit at the thought formulating in his head, "which means we can definitely rule out this being some sort of eternal paradise. Oh well then… I guess I must have been a bit of a bad egg…not a good man." Something about the close juxtaposition of these words made him smile, so looking up at the yellow orange balloon, he said again, "I am not a good man; I am in fact a bad egg… a REALLY bad egg!" The smile faded as he thought he saw a girl in his mind. She had long, light brown hair and sad eyes, but had just done something terrible to him. What had it been? Who was that? He struggled to keep the memory, but as all his memories had gone in this place so did that one. He found himself forgetting both girl and memory and instead searching his pockets. In his right one, he found something small and wrapped in a bit of dark blue cloth. Not that he needed the shade of the tree; he felt neither the wind nor the hot of the sun, but he returned to it to sit beneath its leaves. It had become a familiar face in this weird place, and as such had become an odd comfort for him.

Plopping himself down unceremoniously, he took the thing in his left hand and began to unwrap it with his right. At the center of the bundle was a tiny carved stone of a deep red color. The man turned it around in his hand, looking at it carefully from all angles. It looked like some kind of alien figure, but it also looked like a knot(o). Its surface was so highly polished that if he held it in a certain way, it caught the light of the sun he could not feel and gave him a little glimpse of his own forgotten features. He seemed to have large, dark eyes that were outlined thickly with something black. The beads he could see in his hair had apparently smaller cousins that sat on the ends of his beard. He hadn't felt them tugging at him, but that hardly surprised him anymore.

He was beginning to really feel lost. Not heaven, but somehow not unpleasant enough to be hell… where was he? Who was he? Looking up into the shadowy green arms of his only friend he whispered some kind of a prayer.

"I really wish someone would just tell me where I am. I really wish someone could help… I just want to go someplace not so full of nothing."

"Then why don't you?"

The voice was light and friendly sounding, yet it caused the man to jump back and bang his head smartly against his friend's spiky trunk. Never had he been so glad that he couldn't feel.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Did that hurt?" He saw the owner of the voice as she came running over the sand towards him. She stopped a little before him and knelt slowly down. "Oh, I suppose that was a stupid thing to say, wasn't it." She looked down sheepishly but quickly lifted her eyes to meet his own. The shock she saw there made her laugh her embarrassment away. All the man could think was that the laugh was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He had been rubbing his head reflexively but stopped now to decide what this new development was all about. The young woman before him looked to be perhaps 19, maybe 20. Her skin was the color of roasted cacao nibs, her eyes the color of honey and they twinkled as she laughed as though they had trapped the rays of the impotent sun within them. Her hair was a bit wild, and fell about her shoulders and down her back darkly like the waves of an ocean in the moonlight. About her shoulders she wore a ragged shawl the color of earth and underneath this was a linen dress. This was definitely and finally something.

"Who are you?" He hadn't mean it to come out so blunt so crass, so, well quite frankly so without effect. So, he tried to make it sound less boring and obvious, "I mean, love, here I am sitting all by my onesee, and here all of the sudden a beautiful woman comes along. As I have been desperately lonely I can assume either that you are a figment of my imagination or an answer to a prayer, in which case this is in fact heaven." He bit his lip thoughtfully for a moment and then added, "Unless you're a beautiful woman who only likes eunuchs, which I seem to remember sometimes happens. If it's the second one than I think I can safely assume this is the other place."

The beautiful girl with the honey eyes laughed at him again, and for the first time since he had gotten where ever he now was, the man genuinely felt that things would be alright. He waved his hands cavalierly and turning the corners of his mustache upwards he continued, "I have nothing to offer you; no rum and I'm not even sure my company would be or ever was pleasurable. I don't even remember my name at the moment. However, I would love to make your acquaintance, because I'm fairly certain I've never spoken to a real angel or devil before, which ever you happen to be."

The girl smiled and cocked her head at the man curiously. "And why are you so convinced I am the angel or devil here? What of yourself?"

The man looked at her seriously all of the sudden, and his dark eyes seemed to grow darker still with a storm brewing beneath them. "I am a man who has lost everything he had and everything he ever cared about so completely that he cannot even remember what they were. That, I'm sure, makes me nothing at all."

"What you have lost, you may find again. I will hope it for you, if you have lost your hope for the moment. As for who I am, I am just a girl, I think." Her beautiful eyes lost his gaze for a moment as they seemed to search for something in the distance behind him. She shook her head slowly and her eyes appeared to clear somewhat. She regained his eyes and smiled gently. "As for my name I don't remember it myself, but you may call me as everyone else here does." She slipped the shawl off her left shoulder and revealed a mark: three looping scars that formed a group of circles just above her breast on that side. "My 'name' is Trinity."

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(o) What I'm describing here is called "Isis's knot" or also the "Girdle of Isis". If you want to be totally surprised—don't look it up yet. If you want a hint about future explanations to come, then go ahead 


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